"Fine," CBlo said with a bit of a groan. "I wish no men had changed just now, except the ones who would have wanted to. You happy?"
"Actually..." I started.
"Oh, wait," she interrupted. "I wish any virgin males who have ever masturbated to me would turn into super-hot studs, even better than the backup dancers from my videos. I wish I could see someone change like that, too."
Once again, the TV turned itself on. Now it showed what appeared to be the interior of a subway car thrown into confusion by the fact that three or four women inside, and a couple girls who were apparently in their teenage years, now all looked like something out of a wet dream, their beautified bodies clad in little more than lingerie and heels that seemed almost impossible to walk in.
An acne-ridden, glasses-wearing, gawky teenage boy leaned against a pole, his mouth opened slightly, taking in the scene.
His acne suddenly disappeared, followed by the glasses disappearing into thin air. Noticing that, he raised his hand to his face, just as his shirt disappeared entirely. He looked down in embarrassment, only to see his sunken chest bulge out with muscle, his slightly pudgy stomach erupting into a six -- no, an eight-pack of abs, his body hair receding as his pasty skin darkened to a bronze tan. He kept his blue jeans, but they lengthened to account for the couple of inches added to his already-tall frame and expanded due to the legs that were obviously now rippling with added muscle.
He ran a hand through his perfectly-styled hair that had lightened to a sandy blonde while his face had been tweaked to become more handsome, and then he seemed to realize that his jeans hadn't expanded much in the front, and there was an obvious bulge causing a tent.
The occupants of the subway car were all looking at him, the transformation of some of the women having been forgotten. One of the now-much-sexier women licked her lips just as the TV turned itself off.
"Looks great," said CBlo. "I predict most of those guys will not be virgins much longer."
"What about that last girl we saw?" I asked.
"What are you, my conscience?" she retorted.
"Somebody's got to be," I answered.
To that, she said...